
In the shadowed corridors of British aristocracy, where equestrian pursuits have long been a rite of passage intertwined with legacy and loss, a recent tragedy has cast a poignant pall over the Spencer family. Lady Sarah McCorquodale, the 70-year-old eldest sister of the late Princess Diana, has emerged as the latest emblem of resilience amid vulnerability. Last month, what began as a routine horseback ride—a passion she’s cherished since childhood—spiraled into a “really bad fall” that sidelined her for an agonizing month in the hospital. The revelation came not from a press release, but from her brother, Charles Spencer, the 9th Earl Spencer, during a candid chat on the “Rosebud with Gyles Brandreth” podcast, aired on October 24, 2025. His voice, laced with brotherly affection and wry humor, painted a picture of a woman whose spirit refuses to be tamed, even by the confines of a hospital ward.
Sarah’s accident is more than a personal setback; it’s a stark reminder of the perils that lurk in the very traditions that define the British elite. Horse riding, a sport synonymous with grace and grit, has claimed its toll on the royals and their kin before. Just last year, in June 2024, Princess Anne suffered a concussion from an equine-related incident at her Gatcombe Park estate, spending five days under medical care and emerging with a sobering reflection: “It just reminds you—you never quite know, something happens and you might not recover.” Now, echoing that fragility, Sarah’s tumble has left her “seriously injured,” as Charles delicately put it, though specifics remain shrouded in the family’s characteristic discretion. At 70, she’s no stranger to defying odds—still mounting her steed with the same audacious energy that once led her to gallop a horse straight into the grand hall of Althorp House during a heated spat with their father, John Spencer, back in their youth.
Born Lady Sarah Spencer on March 19, 1955, she was the trailblazing eldest of four siblings: herself, Jane (now Baroness Fellowes), the iconic Diana, and the irreverent Charles. Growing up at Althorp, the sprawling Northamptonshire estate that’s been the Spencer seat since the 16th century, Sarah embodied the “punchy” vigor Charles fondly recalls—always the one in “trouble,” yet fiercely protective. Her own brush with royalty came early: in the late 1970s, she briefly dated the then-Prince Charles, a whirlwind romance that ended amicably. But her true legacy? Playing unwitting Cupid. At a 1977 hunting party, she introduced her beau to her shy younger sister, Diana, quipping to the press later, “I introduced them. I’m Cupid.” The rest, as they say, is history—a fairy tale laced with tragedy that Sarah has steadfastly guarded in the decades since.
Married since 1980 to Neil McCorquodale, a fellow aristocrat and distant cousin to Diana’s stepmother Raine, Sarah has built a quiet life of philanthropy and family. The couple’s three children—Emily, George, and Celia—have woven her into the fabric of modern royalty as the devoted aunt to Princes William and Harry. She’s been a pillar at key moments: standing solemnly with Charles in 1997 to escort Diana’s body home from Paris after the fatal crash; unveiling the poignant Diana statue at Kensington Gardens in 2021 alongside her nephews and sister Jane; and even featuring in the intimate family photos from Harry and Meghan’s wedding and Archie’s christening, a deliberate nod to Diana’s enduring influence.
Yet, beneath the poise lies a “handful,” as Charles chuckled on the podcast. Hospitalized for what he called “a long time”—roughly a month—Sarah reportedly tested her doctors’ patience. The lead physician, confiding in Neil, remarked, “She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”—code, Spencer surmised, for an urgent plea to whisk her home. It’s this unyielding spark that endears her: the same fire that once dated a future king and brokered a legendary match, now flickering defiantly against the odds of age and accident.
As of early November 2025, whispers from close confidants suggest Sarah is “on the mend,” her recovery a slow but steady climb back to the saddle. For the Spencers, who’ve weathered divorce, death, and public scrutiny, this episode underscores a timeless truth: privilege doesn’t shield from pain, but family—and that indomitable Spencer grit—endures. In an era where Diana’s sons navigate their own royal reckonings, Sarah’s story whispers a gentle admonition: cherish the ride, for it can upend in an instant. Her full return to Althorp’s verdant fields? A plot twist we’re all rooting for.